


Twenty-Four

by notjustmom



Series: The Boys in Sussex [25]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-23 08:06:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12502772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom





	1. Chapter 1

"Do you remember?" Sherlock whispered as he nuzzled John's neck.

"Hmmphhh? Do I remember - what?" He opened his eyes to find Sherlock gazing down at him with the 'look.' He yawned and mumbled as he rolled his eyes. "Of course I remember - I don't have your Mind Palace, but, it is not possible for me to forget our first time. You were so patient." He reached up lay his hand along Sherlock's tight jawline and felt him relax under his touch. "So careful - I wanted you, you were afraid you would hurt me, it was raining - had been raining all day, I was grumpy, you - you were lovely."

"I had no idea what I was doing." Sherlock snorted, as he laid down next to him, then closed his eyes. "I had never, with anyone - no one had ever touched me that way, the way you did -"

"Me either." John whispered. "I mean, I had been with other people, but I didn't know - it could be like that. I had never made love before, Sherlock. I didn't - I watched your face, you trusted me so completely - and then you opened your eyes, and you smiled at me, like I had done something clever, something brilliant."

"You made me feel like I was flying, but I was warm and safe - when I opened my eyes, I wasn't sure - you kissed me, and then you told me I was home. And I was, John. I knew my home was with you, wherever you were."

John reached for Sherlock's hand, and closed his eyes as Sherlock's work roughened fingers found his; he was always amazed how they - they shouldn't fit together the way they did, but it didn't matter, whatever made them - John looked up at the ceiling and bit his lip as he felt tears streaming down his cheeks.

"John? Did I say something? I -"

"No. It's not you. Can we just stay here a bit longer?"

Sherlock gathered John into his arms and mumbled into his husband's hair, "we can stay here as long as you want, John, there is no place I'd rather be than with you."

"I love you."

"Rest, John. I'll be right here when you wake up." Sherlock kissed John's hair once more, then closed his eyes as he felt John relax into him, and fall back to sleep. "I promise, John."

 

Grace placed a mug of tea in front of Molly and sat next to her. "You've known Sherlock a long time, then?"

Molly nodded as she took a sip of tea."Knew him from Uni, he was a loner; I was a loner - we would bump into each other in labs, he didn't mind my company, at least he tolerated me, more than he did other people. Then he, eventually, he started working with Greg, and once he understood that I was safe, that I wouldn't hold his past against him, he would come into the lab and work on things, and one day he started talking, and as you might guess, once he started..."

Grace smiled and said, "hard to get him to stop?"

"Nearly impossible." Molly grinned into her tea.

"Do you mind -"

"About John, you mean?"

Grace nodded.

"No. He's - he's absolutely the best thing to ever happen to Sherlock. And he was a happening. I was there when they met. I'd never seen him - just stop, it was only for a moment, but when he saw John walk into the lab, I thought he might fall over. But I shoved a mug of bad coffee into his hands and he took a breath, like he - I don't know, something was different about him from that moment on. He became a better person because of John, and John, he - there were growing pains of course, took them a long time. They had things to work through that most people don't have to deal with, but I always knew, one day... No, John - John is why, John is the reason we are all here, in this place. Sherlock had always lived for the work, the puzzles, answers, he wanted to know everything, and then, John, he threw a wrench into the works; he made Sherlock realise there was more to life than - corpses and crime scenes - Oh!"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just felt - I didn't think I'd feel her quite yet." Molly laid her hand over her growing baby bump, then smiled at Grace. "It's so odd. I'm so used to - I spent so much time around the dead, and now -"

"May I?" Grace whispered.

Molly nodded and reached for Grace's hand and placed it over where she had felt the baby move. "There! Did you?"

"Yes. Oh, Molly. You will be a lovely Mum."

"I don't know about that."

"I do. I see how you love Greg, how you love Sherlock and John. You have so much to give your little one. She is very lucky."

"Madeleine. Maddie."

"Maddie."

"Madeleine Grace, if it's okay with you?"

"Oh." Grace pulled her hand away and put her hand to her mouth.

"Sorry - I didn't mean to -"

"No, it's perfectly lovely, Molly. I'd be honoured. More tea?"

Molly grinned at her and whispered, "please?"


	2. Chapter 2

John dropped into the chair next to Z and closed his eyes.

"So. You talked."

"Uhmmhmm. Then I wrote Sherlock a love poem. Never did that before. Not really. I don't know why it - it mattered that I wrote it. I wasn't going to give it to him, was going to delete it the next morning. But, I came downstairs, and Mum had read it. It became real then. Undeletable. And then I forgave her."

Z looked over at John and waited.

"I had forgiven her before then. No, that's not quite true. I had forgotten, or buried her, mostly. Except when I made Sherlock curry with peas, or read him The Princess Bride because it was what I knew to do - I didn't know why, didn't know why I sang that stupid song in the shower. So, I hadn't completely forgotten. I kept the good bits, the things that she gave me. I don't want to - I need her to be forgiven, Z. I keep thinking, she keeps waiting for me to be angry. But I spent so many years angry, or just numb, maybe, I don't know, honestly. I just got on with things. Life went on. I have so much, Z. I don't need to yell at her, tell her - about the things that hurt. When I showed her my scars, I knew in her face, when she touched me, she knew. I didn't need to tell her. She had carried it long enough, she always knew. And yes, I let her off the hook, Z. Let myself off the hook. I don't have time, she doesn't have time for the bullshit. I can't make her let it go, but I can. So, I did. Not sure she understands or buys it." John shrugged and looked over at his uncle. "Not much I can do about that. I've lived it once, I don't need to do it again for anyone."

Z nodded. "Tea?"

"Tea."

 

Mrs. H -

I know we've asked every time we chat or send a note and you always have some reason not to visit us, but it would mean a lot to Sherlock and to me, if you came to spend just a day or two with us. My mum would love to meet you, and you know you want to fuss over Molly. So, please when you have a free weekend, please (yes, two pleases, one from of each of us) say you will. We can have Mycroft send a car, or pick you up from the train station, just let us know when. We miss you!

Love,  
John

 

"Don't you think two pleases is pushing it a bit?" Sherlock murmured at his ear.

"Nope."

"Maybe she hates bees, or maybe she's happy with her new 'quiet' tenants, and just -"

"Not possible, you know that -"

Sherlock shrugged and watched as John put the note into the envelope and sighed. "You think she believes I say please now?"

John laughed and pulled Sherlock into his arms. "Still startles me when you say -"

"Please, John?"

"Damn, love. Anything..."

 

Mrs. Hudson showed Mrs. Turner John's note and sighed. "The boys need me."

"Nothing there that says that, Martha. They just miss you, is all."

"Like I said, Evelyn, they need me."

Mrs. Turner snorted but shrugged. "A train ride will be lovely this time of year."

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "I think I'll ask Mycroft to have a car ready tomorrow morning. About 8ish."

 

"Mrs. Hudson?"

"John, hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"No, of course not." He covered his mobile to shush Sherlock's giggles. "How are you?"

"I got your note, and Mycroft will be sending a car for me at 8 sharp tomorrow, I hope you boys are serious about me coming to visit."

"Of course we are. You know I never say anything I don't mean."

"No, you don't do you?"

"See you tomorrow, Mrs. H"

"Thank Sherlock for me, John."

John narrowed his eyes at Sherlock, but muttered, "I will, Mrs. H, night." He ended the call and raised an eyebrow at Sherlock.

"I may have sent her a dozen of her favourite flowers?"

"Only a dozen?"

"Oh, alright, it was two dozen, but I didn't send the box of chocolates. I thought that might be overkill."

John laughed and snorted as Sherlock blew a raspberry over his slightly soft belly.

"Don't stop -"

"Don't worry, I won't."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Hudson and Grace finally meet...

"She's here!" Sherlock fairly flew down the ladder of the treehouse and ran to the driveway. He opened the back door and offered Mrs. Hudson his hand. She took it and squeezed it tightly for a moment, and allowed him to help her from her seat.

"Sherlock."

"Mrs. H." He looked down at her shyly, then laughed as she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against him. 

She pulled away and looked him over carefully. "Well, someone has been feeding you up, and considering John only knows how to make toast and curry..."

"Let me get your bags, you're just in time for tea. Z and Gladys are here, you remember, they are John's uncle and aunt. Grace is Z's sister. Now, you are to do nothing, except relax and -"

"Mrs. H!" John threw open the kitchen door and picked her up in his arms, then twirled her around.

"John Watson! What has gotten into you? Put me down!"

"Sorry." He put her down gently, and smiled at her. "Come in, tea is ready. Mum is really looking forward to meeting you. She's a bit nervous, so be nice?"

Mrs. Hudson sighed and rolled her eyes. "What does she have to be nervous about? Oh, alright, I'll do my best -"

"Thanks, Mrs. H, you're a peach." John kissed her head, then took her by the hand and led her into the house.

"Mrs. H, my uncle, Zachariah Moses and his wife -"

"Gladys. I've heard all about your Victoria Sponge, from Sherlock's brother, he says it's remarkable, and he is not one to speak lightly of cake."

Gladys laughed. "No, I imagine he is not. I am so glad to finally meet you, Mrs -"

"Martha, please."

John rolled his eyes then glanced over at Sherlock.

"Grace will be in soon, she was visiting with Em, and then was going to check the bees, but she will be in for tea. Ah - there she is, now."

Grace came through the door, with Gertrude at her side, still fully dressed in her protective gear. "Oh, sorry - I heard the car, and Gertrude came to get me." She pulled off the head covering and smiled nervously. "Mrs. Hudson - I've heard so much about you." She offered Mrs. Hudson her hand and realized she was still wearing the gloves. "Let me get changed, I'll be right back."

Molly and Greg walked into the kitchen then, trying to stifle yawns. "Is tea - oh, Mrs. H." Molly grinned as she was pulled into a gentle embrace.

"You look -"

"Pregnant?" Molly laughed.

"I was going to say happy, dear. I wasn't sure -"

Grace opened her door and leaned against her doorway, watching her family for a moment. Mrs. Hudson was right. They were happy. Mrs. Hudson looked in her direction and their eyes met; not quite a warning, but perhaps a challenge had just been issued. Mrs. Hudson nodded and Grace took her place at the table.

"Mrs. Hudson? Tea?"

"Please, Mrs. Wats-"

"Grace, please, call me Grace."

"Thank you, Grace, I'm Martha." Martha took her place next to Sherlock and smiled gently at her.

Grace nodded as she poured out tea, willing her hand not to shake. They had put out the good china, and Gladys had brought her Victoria Sponge, and John's favourite apple cake. When she looked up again, John had moved to sit close by her and draped his arm around her shoulder. She leaned against him and blew out a breath she didn't realise she had been holding.

 

"I'm going to take Gertrude for a walk, Mrs - Martha, would you like to join us?"

Mrs. Hudson nodded. "After that lovely tea, and the long drive, I definitely need to stretch my legs." She patted Sherlock's hand and excused herself. "We'll be fine, boys."

 

"Thank you." Grace murmured as they walked down the driveway.

"For what, dear?"

"For being kind. And, well, for giving John a home, when he needed it, I was - well, you probably know."

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "I only know that you are here, and you would only be here if they wanted you here. Neither of them love lightly, Grace. Molly and Greg? They are family to them. You are family. They don't take enormous leaps of faith very often, they have both been hurt - by each other and the people who are supposed to love them, for you to be here - he has forgiven you. Whatever you did or didn't do, he has moved past it. John is one of the strongest people I know, Grace. I assume you are a big reason for that, you made him tough, my dear."

Grace snorted and looked at the older woman, then whispered, "I'm not proud of that."

"No, but, he - look what he survived. Most people would have given up. Even before he met Sherlock, and then - well, you know."

Grace nodded.

"I've known Sherlock a long time, Grace. I haven't seen him happy very often. When he brought John home from hospital; their wedding, and today. Today, honestly, it's the first time I've seen him happy and healthy, he smiles, he laughs - he's comfortable in his life, Grace. I never thought I'd see him so content. He knows, finally knows he's loved. He has found his place, and it includes you. He wants John to have everything, I think sometimes he is still trying to make it up to him, the time, the years they missed. But, I saw them at tea today, they are done apologizing to each other, or to anyone else. I waited to come here, I wanted to give them time to settle in. I knew they still had things to work out, I wondered if everything happened too quickly, after John - you know. But then, I considered, they had been doing the dance for so long - Sherlock is here because of your son, Grace. They nearly killed each other getting here, but -" She stopped and turned to look at Grace. "Let it go, dear. You belong here. You belong with them, to them. But know this -"

Grace met her eyes and held her breath again.

"Hurt them, and I know people who know people." Mrs. Hudson laughed and laid a gentle hand on Grace's shoulder and shook her head. "I'm kidding."

"John told me -"

"John told you what?"

"You weren't their housekeeper."

"No, dear, I wasn't. Just their landlady."

Gertrude ran back to them as the sky began to darken. Grace looked up and sighed. "Storm is coming. Martha - you will stay for a few days, I hope? I have a lot to learn about the boys."

"You're doing fine, my dear, but thank you for the invitation." Mrs. Hudson took her arm as they turned back towards the farm.


	4. Chapter 4

"How did you sleep?"

Mrs. Hudson yawned as she sat down at the kitchen table. "Too noisy."

"Sorry, we do try to keep it down -"

She laughed as Sherlock placed a mug of tea in front of her. "No, silly - the night noises - I'm used to London, the traffic and people, not these, I don't know, outside noises?" She watched him sit down and stir the sugar into his tea. "I'm proud of you. This place. To be honest, I wasn't sure - I was just afraid, I suppose."

"Of what?"

"That he'd let you down. Again. No. Listen. When he came back to Baker Street. To take care of you, I worried. I worried he'd - that you would get hurt again. After everything, you almost died, Sherlock, and - I didn't say anything, because I knew it was what you wanted, even though you didn't tell him, then. It took a long time, and I wasn't sure, and then he got hurt..." Sherlock shook his head at her and tried to stop her words.

"Mrs. H. Martha."

"I'm trying to apologise. Let me, love."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but nodded at her as he took another sip of tea.

"I watched you, with him, and you let him, finally, see you. And you were patient, Sherlock, you gave him time. I knew when you got married, but, still. I don't know, the mother-hen in me, I still worried." She shrugged. "I'm glad to be wrong, dear."

Sherlock smiled at her softly. "We're good, honestly. We're -"

"I could tell, dear." She winked at him and he stuck out his tongue at her. "I heard a rumour that you managed to get Mycroft out on a tractor, named Matilda?"

"I did. Fancy a ride?"

"ME on a tractor?" She whispered indignantly.

Sherlock stifled a snort. "If Mycroft can do it..." 

She glared at him then sighed, "oh, what the hell. After breakfast."

"Deal."

 

"What did you think, Mrs. H?" John grinned as he served her up a bowl of curry for lunch.

"It's gorgeous, John. And I've never seen him happier, and healthier. Because of you."

John sat down quietly and began eating.

"I -"

John shook his head. "You don't have to -"

Mrs. Hudson interrupted him. "I do -"

"No. You had doubts about me, when I went back to Baker Street to care for him. Hell, I was minutes away from going on a walking tour, I wanted to disappear." He shrugged and put his spoon down. "Mycroft - when Mycroft came by, told me Sherlock needed me. I didn't think I was ready, I didn't think he could still, I didn't know, Martha, want me in his life. I was an idiot, and I was afraid I would hurt him again. He didn't let me. I tried telling him, I wanted to let him know, before, years before I got hurt, but, then, that night when I woke up, and he was sitting next to me, hadn't been home in days, wouldn't leave without me... I thought the day I woke up in his arms - I thought that was the best day of my life, until we got married, and then, every day, here - with him. You could have made it hard for me, you gave me, us, a chance. I know how difficult that must have been, not to say something to him. He adores you, trusts you more than he trusts me. No, it's true. You never hurt him. You have always loved him unconditionally, and he knows that. I hope you know, Martha, that he's safe with me. I love him. Truly."

Mrs. Hudson looked into John's dark eyes and nodded. "I know. When I got your letter, and his flowers. I needed to see it with my own eyes. But I knew, John. When you married him, I knew you were for real. I'm sorry that I ever doubted you."

"I have days, not many anymore, but I have moments when I wonder, Mrs. H. I wonder what he sees in me, but then he will come in from working in the pasture, or he'll simply look across the table at me, and smile at me, and I -" John shrugs and blushes a bit. "Somehow I'm enough, for him. Still. I won't - every day I try to make sure he knows that I love him. Every day, he knows, but I tell him, Mrs. H. He deserves to know how necessary he is to me." He smiled at her and picked up his spoon again.

 

"I love you."

Sherlock pulled his shorts and pants off, and slid into bed. He rolled onto his side and looked at John, then traced John's gently parted lips with his finger, and kissed him softly. "I love you. You never have to prove it to me. I know, because you are here, John, here with me. But you can tell me you love me anytime you want. I don't mind at all." John rolled over so Sherlock could curl around him. They threaded their hands together, and fell asleep.

 

"Mum, how are you?"

"Good. We're good, Mrs. Hudson is visiting."

"How is that going?"

"She's a hoot. No, we're fine, we chatted, mostly she talked, I listened; she understands them so well. They try to stop her from telling stories, but she tells me later anyway, when we're visiting with Em. She understands, Harry - I'm so glad she was there when John needed a place to land."

"She's a good egg, Mum, glad you two are getting along. I was wondering how it would go, you know, two mother hens - whether you could share the kitchen -"

"Oh, I definitely gave her the kitchen, gives me more time to write. And besides, her scones are much better than mine, hoping she'll tell me her secret before she leaves."

"Mum..."

"No, we're good, in fact, tonight, after the boys went to bed, we shared a bottle of wine - I know, I know, I don't normally, but it was so much fun, the stories she has, and I told her about John when he was little. It was - I had forgotten how nice it is to have someone to talk to. Just wanted to see how you and Clara are doing, and to see when you can come down, they miss you two. I miss you."

"I know, Mum. In a week or two, maybe, just busy right now."

Clara looked over at Harry and rolled her eyes.

"Soon, Mum, we'll come visit soon. Promise."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit of Molstrade and a bit of the boys...

Molly was laughing as she walked into their bedroom, then stopped as she saw Greg standing at the window, silently watching the rain. She turned and closed the door, then moved carefully to stand behind him.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Hmm?" 

"You're so quiet today."

"The rain. It's so different here, it's beautiful, not messy and dark and bleak -"

"Greg?"

He turned as she laid a hand on his back, and gazed down at her, she was looking up at him with such, what was it? "How?"

"How, what?

"How did I do it for so long, and without you?" He leaned down as she reached up to kiss him, tenderly, and he sighed against her lips. "There are days, no, not days, just brief flashes, when I see things - things I can't unsee. I'm not like Sherlock, he can delete things, and be done -"

Molly shook her head. "It's not like that. And he never deletes the important things, he, I don't know - the two of you hold onto things so hard. You - you know, you aren't responsible for it. The bad things, the inhuman acts that people do - you took it on, the two of you - as if it were a mission to fix the world. It isn't possible. It nearly broke both of you. And I sat there and watched, I even helped him - Greg, I helped him disappear from John, without me -." She buried her face against his chest and he kissed her hair.

"Without you, Molly Lestrade, he wouldn't have survived. He would have done it, you know - how he was then. He would have done anything to make sure John would be safe. But, he chose you because he trusted you. He knew you cared, that you loved him, you did everything you could to make sure he made it back to us. And he did. He did, Molly. Look at me, lovely."

Molly lifted her face and saw the light in his dark, silver eyes glittering down at her. "Damn."

"Do you know how beautiful you are?"

She blushed and turned away from him. He let her walk away, knowing something had been bothering her under all the glowing, happy burbling she had been doing since they had moved here. She shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed.

"What if... what if I'm not good at it?"

He moved to kneel in front of her and took both of her hands in his, marveling at how tiny she was, and yet, had such - not power over him, precisely, it was - hell, he didn't know, but she had made him rethink his world, his life - "Good at what, Molly?"

"This?" She nodded down at her baby bump, she would have to order new clothes soon, her biggest pants were nearly too small already. "Being a mum, giving you a family? I don't remember my own mum, she - left when I was three. My da tried so hard, but it isn't the same -"

Greg cursed inwardly and sat next to her on the bed.

"I want to give her so much, Greg. What if I - what if I don't love her enough?"

Greg lifted his eyes skyward and hoped for the right words to come. "You love Sherlock, and John."

"Yes, of course." She rolled her eyes at him as she wiped her tears away.

"You love me." He whispered against her shoulder.

"Do you have to ask?"

He kissed her shoulder, then shook his head. "No. You know I don't."

"I do, more than - anything." She turned and laid a trembling hand against his slightly stubbled jawline. "More than anything."

"I know. You know how to love, Moll, give yourself a chance. Give us a chance. We are here for you. No matter what happens. You are so very loved, Molly Lestrade." He moved slightly and kissed her palm. "So very loved. May I show you?" His dark eyes found hers, and she bit her lip and nodded.

"Please, Greg."

 

"Do you think it was wise?"

"Hmmm?" John muttered into Sherlock's ear.

"Howard, your mum, and Mrs. H having tea with Z and Gladys? Who knows what Mrs. H is telling them right now..."

"I don't bloody care." John mumbled as he sat up and gazed down into Sherlock's blown eyes. "Damn. How do you -"

"What?" Sherlock whispered as he reached out to bring John closer.

"You keep becoming more beautiful, every day."

Sherlock shook his head and John pulled back slightly. 

"You don't believe me?"

"It's not that."

"What then?"

"You are the only one, John. No one else -"

"Oh, love, no." John lowered himself against Sherlock's chest and felt his husband shudder beneath him. "Love. You are - damn it." John knew words were useless. He sat up and took Sherlock's hand in his, and kissed the scars that had become sun bleached from his time working outdoors, then kissed each fingertip, roughened by years of violin playing, casework and the odd accidental experiment. He kissed his palm, then pressed it against his own chest, until he knew that Sherlock could feel his heartbeat in his fingers. He watched the tears silently fall from Sherlock's sea-green eyes and shook his head. "So very beautiful, my love." He lowered himself once more over Sherlock's trembling form and sighed as he felt Sherlock's arms and legs wrap around him, and hold on tightly.

"John."

"I'm here, love. I'm here."


	6. Chapter 6

"How long have you known Sherlock, then, Martha?" Z asked as they sat on the porch.

"I knew his mum, when we were children. I, let's just say, did not become a world-renowned mathematician. I took another road, ended up in Florida, with a lovely businessman."

Z snorted. "Businessman, eh?"

Mrs. Hudson laughed, not embarrassed in the least. "Sherlock told you."

"He warned me about you."

"Oh, he did, did he?"

"He also said you saved his life on a few occasions."

"As he did mine." Mrs. Hudson sat quietly and closed her eyes. "I always - I tried to keep an eye out for him after his mum and dad, you know - but, life happens to all of us, doesn't it? I had heard from Mycroft that Sherlock had left home, I had contacts, street kids - who knew things, they trusted me - I never asked questions, just helped them out. I found him, and he - I promised I wouldn't tell Mycroft where he was. And I kept my word. It nearly killed him, but I promised him." She paused and opened her eyes, and sat forward. "He eventually finished school - and his stints in rehab, by then I had moved to the States with my 'businessman.' I knew, but I didn't want to know, if you understand." Z nodded. "And when things blew up in my face, Mycroft sent Sherlock - it wasn't that long before he met John, he was clean, finally, and he brought me home, after the dust cleared. I bought Baker Street with some of the money I had squirreled away, I may have been a bit naïve, but I wasn't stupid, I did the books after all -" Mrs. Hudson winked at Z and he laughed. 

"To be honest, I never thought -" Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "I didn't think he'd still be around now. There were times when he told me that he didn't know why he was still here, and I did my best, he was always so lovely to me, not that character that John - he actually toned him down for public consumption, he was a royal pain in the arse to everyone else, but not to me. Until John, he didn't have a reason, really, other than the puzzles, and I knew it was only a matter of time. He was counting the days, and hours that he had been clean, but the day he met John, I knew. His face - if you could have seen his face - it - he was, he seemed to know why he was here, finally. It nearly killed him of course, because he's built that way, always lived in extremes."

They sat in silence as they watched the rain slowly falter, then come to a stop, as if a faucet had suddenly been turned off.

"What matters is that they found their way here, Martha. They found us, and they finally managed to get you here. You know they would love to have you with them, I know Sherlock is working on drawings for a house for you -"

"Sherlock knows I'm a city girl, Z, always have been, all this peace and quiet - it's lovely for a few days, but I need the noise and chaos for now, perhaps one day -" She shrugged. "I've never wanted them to feel responsible for me - I don't want them - I don't want to be a burden, Z. I've always done for myself, or at least I've tried."

Z reached out and squeezed her hand gently. "I know. But if you asked them, you know they would tell you there is nothing they wouldn't do for you, and that in no way could you ever be a burden on them. I think you know that. You are family to them, Martha."

She nodded and whispered, "I know, Z, I know."

 

Sherlock stood at the kitchen doorway and breathed in the cooler air that the rain had brought, shivering as he felt John drape his arms around his hips, and kissed that one spot between his shoulders that somehow always made him purr. Yes, he acknowledged finally, that it was indeed the only way to describe the hum that escaped when John - "Hmmmmmm... Johnnnn."

"Uhmhmmm?"

"Any reason we can't, uhm, go back upstairs?"

"None at all." John grinned against his back, then spun him around and took both of Sherlock's hands in his, and led him back upstairs.


End file.
